


The Bloody Tempest

by Sookiestark



Series: Ghost Stories of Westeros [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, F/F, F/M, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, The Faceless Men, Vengeance Demon(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-01-25 02:47:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12521228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: While Arya Stark spends the fortnight at the Twins as Walder Frey, she finds out that the Twins are haunted by many of the victims of the Red Wedding. She knows that she will try to bring peace to these sad tortured spirits. However, there is something darker, hungrier, and much more dangerous that lurks around the Twins, haunting and hunting babes and their Frey mothers. At first, Arya could care less, but as the days pass, living around the Frey women, will she change her mind?





	1. Chapter 1

Walder Frey walked slowly from the kitchens into the hallway of The Twins, as if he was carrying a large burden. Of course, no one looked twice at him, except to bow and nod and look busy. Walder Frey was not a man to stop and talk to servants or chat about the weather. He was a man that people respectfully avoided, making little eye contact, especially women.

If someone had looked at him, they might have noticed he walked a bit strange or his eyes were overbright. He seemed to be chewing his lip more than he had earlier and more observant than he had been in the last forty years. If someone had really watched him, they might have noticed an intelligence in his dark deep-set eyes, not a calculating cruelty, but real intelligence. But who really watched Walder Frey? No one noticed the subtle imperceptible differences. Even if they had, the ninety-five-year-old Lord of Riverrun and the Twins could change his manner anytime he wanted. He was the patriarch of the huge and victorious House Frey.

When he had come into the kitchen, the boys scrubbing the pots didn't really remember him leaving to go outside, but they couldn’t be sure. When he had washed the blood off his hands, one of the boys had thought to ask how he got so much blood on his hands. However, the last time a kitchen boy was impertinent, he had been beaten; so, everyone kept working. Walder mumbled to himself and went to his room, which overlooked the yard. 

On the top of one of the walls was a crow’s cage. In it, there held the bones of The King in the North and the head of his great direwolf. Lord Frey had put Robb Stark’s body with his wolf’s head sewed on his shoulders after the Red Wedding, so all could see. Now, years later, all there was were bones. Those bones were one of the greatest trophies that Lord Frey had ever won and the bones would never see Winterfell, as long as Walder had breath in his body.

Lord Frey walked passed two guards and entered his bedchamber. His young wife, Kitty was sleeping in big canopied bed. Walder Frey had stopped when he saw the sleeping girl as if he was thinking, and then he continued undressing, finding a nightshirt laid out for him. He blew out the candle and put his night dress on in the darkness. 

As he climbed into bed, he heard his wife speak, “My lord, I am sorry I was sleeping. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, girl. All is well..”  
“Would you like to take your rights, my lord?”

Walder was quiet for longer than usual. “Not tonight, girl, Now, quit your blabbering and let me sleep.”

“Good night, my lord.”

Almost immediately, Walder could hear her softly breathing, sleeping contently.

 

Arya Stark had wandered around the Twins after she had disposed of Walder Frey’s body, putting most in the pots for tomorrow’s dinner, feeding some to the pigs, and burying the rest in the unmarked grave of the men from the Red Wedding that lay outside the castle, several hundred yards away. After she was done, she had wandered the yard looking like Walder Frey, grumbling about the costs of soldiers and the laziness of young men. She did not like the feel of wearing Lord Frey’s face and skin. He was old and sour, finding pleasure in sowing discord among his heirs and feeling big by making others feel small. But she had needed to see the space and figure out if her plan to destroy House Frey was without flaw or to see if there was something she should reconsider. It was best to see any flaws through the Lord’s eyes.

After her walking and carefully considering the possible issues, she had come to the conclusion that her plan was a good plan. Tomorrow, Walder Frey would call another feast in a fortnight and invite all his heirs and all his men. When they came, he would feast with them and drink with them, serving them poisoned wine. All those involved in the Red Wedding would perish and the North would have its vengeance. 

She knew she would have to live as Walder Frey for the two weeks or more while they waited for the men to return and the feast to be held. Kitty, Walder Frey’s wife, would be sleeping beside her, eating breakfast, doing all her wifely duties, and she would have to both raise no suspicion and tolerate the ramblings of a fifteen-year-old girl. Arya knew she was only a year or two older than the girl, but it seemed like the years on her own had aged her decades and the silly things highborn girls seemed to value seemed superficial. As she laid on the pillows, she noticed Kitty seemed to want to be as far away from Lord Frey in their bed. She hoped Kitty kept her distance and thanked the Old Gods that Lord Frey had alienated his newest wife. She would rather not bother with Kitty Frey at all. 

Arya rolled to sleep on her side, away from Kitty. On her walk, deep in thought, on this winter night, she had noticed just how many spirits haunted the Twins. The Twins were full of ghosts. In the House of Black and White, Arya had seen a great many ghosts. Some were haunted by their human failings. Some were full of rage at the betrayal that killed them or the circumstances of their death. Some ghosts seemed forgetful and didn't seem to remember they had died at all.

One of the things she had been taught by the Faceless Men was how to soothe the uneasy dead, ease their weary and burdened souls and lay them to rest. After all, the House of Black and White could not have the held amount of spirits, wandering haunting the space and city of Braavos. Most of the times, ghosts were harmless, shadows and shades, lighter than breath but heavy with grief and sorrows. Occasionally, they were a great deal more.

While she had been putting the remains of Walder Frey in the almost frozen ground, she had noticed the ghosts of about two hundred Northmen, aimlessly drifting, wandering angry, betrayed confused, seemingly lost. Some had tried to grab her arm and ask her questions, find answers to questions she could not hear. To see her brother and father’s men, in such a state, was heartbreaking and she promised them that she would help soon. They could not hear her.

In the misty tangle of their bodies, she had seen Grey Wind’s headless body, frantically running to and fro, but lost, without a head to see or nose to smell. 

When she had been in the Great Hall earlier, during the feast, she had seen the spirit of her brother, Robb. Robb Stark with Grey Wind’s head, lumbering and awkward. Troubled and apologizing, he seemed to be lost in a reverie of all the mistakes he had made, and all the men that had died due to those mistakes. She heard him mumble their mother's name, as well as his wife'. She had wanted to reach out and lay him to eternal sleep right then. However, she was Walder Frey and she wanted him to be laid to rest in Winterfell with father. As King in the North, he belonged in the crypts of Winterfell with the other Stark Kings. 

But there was a darker spirit, full of anger and rage at this place. It was hungry, an insatiable hunger. It was all red and it wanted the fresh, bright new blood of babies and the sweet, innocent blood of mothers. It was a seething tempest of crimson, seeking to eat and drink lives and never rest until House Frey was drained completely. She felt it circling the castle, waiting like a predator might, waiting to strike, outside but watching.

Arya did not care for this dark, red vengeful spirit, but she did not let it worry her. Let it stay at The Twins for eternity, eating and drinking the souls of mothers and babies. She could care less. What did she care for the Freys? The Frey’s deserved nothing but the destruction of their house. Let this spirit kill every last Frey woman and child in anguish and pain. She would kill the men.

Walder Frey smiled before he fell into a deep and untroubled sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Kitty Frey had started to wonder if her husband was starting to be touched by the madness of old age. She had never seen him act so strangely. Her husband, Walder is an old man with terrible breath and hairs that grow out of his ears. He complains constantly and he insults her intelligence, her birth, and her sex. When she is insolent, he beats her with a belt that he keeps on the post of their bed. He beds as often as he can. A babe has yet to come to term. She has had two miscarriages. He says she is faulty but she thinks his seed is old and won’t hold. He is a man who is foul-tempered and mean-spirited. However, he has started to act slightly different in the last few days.  
First, he has not bedded her in three days. She is not on her courses and he has not even touched her. Sometimes, her husband will not bed her, but then his temper flares up and he will beat her. Not only has he not taken his rights, he has not beaten her, not even a slap. He is still ill-mannered and revels in the discord of his many offspring, but he seems different.

Secondly, he has had Edmure Tully removed from the dungeons. Tully is still in chains and under lock and key, but he is now being kept in a room in the west tower. She has heard he has changed his rations to include meat and gravy, as well as a glass of wine at night. Everyone knows that Tully only had bread and water since he was brought to the Twins by Jaime Lannister. It is said that Lord Frey issued him a mattress of straw with a pillow and blanket. Kitty goes over the cost in her head. An unexplained cost to feed a traitor’s mouth was not a thing that Walder would do, especially for a man who has a better claim to Lord of the Riverlands than he does.  
Sometimes, she sees him looking at her or his family. She sees the disdain, which was how Walder usually looked at them, but there is even more now, almost a hatred. She mentioned it to Arwyn Frey and she said his hatred is not all that unusual and Kitty Frey has just not been around long enough to see it. Arwyn shrugged it off as normal and Kitty reminds herself how unusual it is to be a Frey. Her father had only ever loved his children and looked with care in his eyes. At least, until Kitty disobeyed him with her unruly nature the last time. Her father had said he could not stand to look at her any longer and he had sent her here.

She has been married to her lord husband for less than a year. Walder Frey had some problems finding a ninth wife. After all, he allowed his eighth wife to be killed in front of him. It is said he laughed when Catelyn Stark threatened to kill the late Lady Frey and said he could find another. Wives are cheap to Walder Frey. He has had nine of them and countless women to bed. They are disposable and there can always be another one found.

Most lords did not want to give Lord Frey a daughter if he would make jokes at the death of his last wife. After all, most fathers wanted more for their daughters than Walder Frey. She was sixteen years old and her father had agreed to it as a punishment. Her mother had cried and said she would prefer he make Kitty join the Silent Sisters. Father had still been furious at Kitty and said she would go and be a wife to Lord Frey and hopefully, he could beat or breed the insolence and disobedience out of her.

She smiles to herself that Lord Frey has not done this, yet. Perhaps, he won’t be able to. However, when she looks at the pinched and bitter faces of the Freys, she knows she will lose herself among these small grasping discourteous people. 

Lizzie had told her about how sometimes the Children of the Forest could bewitch a man or the little people might leave a changeling in a crib that was a fairy, instead of a baby. She couldn’t see why the faeries might steal her bitter old man. So, the most reasonable cause for Walder’s strange behavior was he was losing his mind. Her own grandfather had not recognized them when she was younger. One day, he had wandered away from the Keep and when they found him, he had been lost for two days. He died shortly after that from the chill, rant, and raving, not recognizing any of them. 

She missed her sisters, Melody, Jeyne, and Missy and her baby brother, Paul. She missed the little keep on the river. She missed mother but most of all, she missed Lizzie. Lizzie had been a kitchen girl and her best friend. She knew her father had beat her, as well, but she hoped she had recovered. She hoped all that Lizzie was well and good. When Molly would write, she would often make mention of Lizzie and Kitty was glad that she well.

Kitty catches her husband looking at his clothes and his shoes. He touches the belt on the bedpost and asks her, “Girl, why is this here?”

“It is so you can beat me when I am disobedient, my Lord.”  
He chuckles, a wet sound, like a man choking on his food. “Do you get beat often?”

Kitty looks at him certain he has lost his faculties. However, this could be a test and if she is disobedient or disrespectful, it could make it worse for her. She gets up and bends over the bed, lifting her skirts. “As you say, my Lord, I am a weak-willed girl and I need constant instruction and discipline.”

Her husband looks at her like he might ask what she is doing but then she sees the realization hit him, that she is bending over so that he can beat her, that she is lifting her skirts the way he taught her, so that she will get the full brunt of the belt as it lands across her legs, thighs, and rear. Walder looks uncomfortable for a moment at his wife in such a display. Then, he adjusts himself and looks at her bruised skin, in various stages of yellow and blue bruising. He hasn’t beaten her in several days so that most are probably yellowish grey. She thinks for a moment she can feel the tips of his fingers trace the darkest bruise but she can’t be sure. 

Kitty closes her eyes and waits to feel the first crack of the belt. Instead, she hears her husband. “Pull down your dress, girl. I won’t beat you tonight. I am too tired.”

Kitty pulls down her night shift and crawls into bed. She waits for her husband to come to bed. Instead, he stays up for hours, looking at Robb Stark’s bronze crown in the firelight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it took so long. I am trying to finish some of my older pieces, so hopefully by the end of March this will be done. 
> 
> I did some research for how the Faceless men change into the people who thay are pretending to be. After all, just wearing a new face, wouldn't make you look like the person completely. The most I got from what I read is it is magic or blood magic.

Black Walder was whispering his rancor early this morning in his father’s ear. Listening to Lord Frey’s sons the past week has taught Arya much about what everyone thinks of Walder’s young wife, including Lord Frey. Black Walder spoke to the left of his father, whispering like wind, “I received word from your wife's father He asks about her. He asks if she proves fertile? “ 

Walder spoke, his voice cutting like a knife, “She is not pregnant if that is what you are curious to know.”

“Her father thought her willful and unnatural. Perhaps, because her grandmother was a frog eater, a bog devil. A Fenn. It is rumored that she committed abominations with the serving girl. Perhaps, that is why she hasn’t grown big. Perhaps, she is poisoning herself with witches brew.”

Arya thought to herself, wondering what abominations Kitty might have committed with a serving girl that would rend her infertile. She must speak with her wife about this, but Lord Frey should know and she did not want people to question her too much. 

Walder looked at his son, narrow-eyed and mean, “Do not worry so much about what lies between my wife's legs. Her cunt is my business and I tend to it. Sweet and young, she is. Soon, she will fatten just like a cow, a new heifer. Are you so greedy for another brother to take a piece of your inheritance? Go away.”

 

“I like her wild..” Walder mumbled as he picked up the letter Black Walder had dropped and read the words. 

Arya did not like the way Walder Frey’s wife would flinch when she was near. She liked the girl, even if she was a Frey. Arya wasn’t used to her family being afraid of her father and she did not want her wife to be afraid of her. After all, if things had been different, she would have been married to one of the Freys and been among them, wanting some kindness. She only has a little more than a week for the feast. Some kindness would not hurt.

Arya wonders what her wife might like. It is strange to spend days with a hostile stranger. What Jaqen said to her that one could get lost in the character, that one must get lost in the character. Regardless of whether she wears Walder’s face and his body, she is still Arya Stark. This girl is her age. In another time and place, she might be her friend. Perhaps, she still might.

Arya struggled with herself. She hated the Frey’s and she should hate her wife, yet she didn’t. In a way, she had admired her. Whenever she saw Kitty, she was singing or sewing or playing. In this tough cruel world of the Twins, she had found joy. Arya was fascinated how she carved a life out of the mistrust and the lack of charity She had bloomed in a place with no sun. Even with beatings, she found time to play with the children, time to sing to herself, time to be kind to the strangers around her.

Kitty was playing Blind Man's Bluff and Capture the Castle with some of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She seemed to like the children and often would watch them for the mothers in the Frey family, who wanted a moment to themselves. She was not selfish or bitter and seemed to try an be friendly to everyone, except Walder. When she was with her husband, Arya could feel her flinch and recoil from him. From just seeing a glimpse of the bruises on her backside, Arya thought she had good reason to dislike her husband.

Walder Frey approached his wife, Kitty Frey, in the sun of the early afternoon. She smiled, politely. Arya’s mother would have told her that Kitty’s manners were always befitting a lady. Even when she hated you, Kitty Frey would smile and play her part.

“Good morning, Lord Husband..”

“Girl, you need another dress. You have outgrown your dresses. Perhaps, you might like a new dress. I hear there is a new dressmaker in Lord Harroway’s Town. I have sent for him.” 

“Thank you, my Lord.”

“One or two... After all, you are the Lady of the Twins.”

Arya saw the girls face brighten slightly. It had been rumored that Kitty had been the daughter of a poor landed knight on the edge of the Neck. Often, she would hear the disdain at Kitty’s poorer House. However, Arya knew that Walder Frey had been lucky to even convince Kitty’s father to marry the girl. It had been said that Walder Frey had put her in a wedding dress that his most recently deceased wife had worn when he wedded her and several brides before her. Arya is certain Kitty has never worn a new dress that she has not made herself or her mother made for her.

Arya longed to get out of the Twins. The air inside was oppressive. Walder spoke, “It looks like a warm winter day, unseasonably warm. I have heard you like to play in the reeds by the river. Would you like to go out? We could bring some of the children or my daughters, whichever you prefer.“

“Oh yes. Thank you, my Lord Husband. Thank you. “

Lord Frey watched his wife play in the river, as he sat in a chair on a clearing by the river. Some of the children ran about with kites and ribbons tied to sticks. His granddaughter Sherei was big with child and it took two women to help her sit outside in the sun. 

In the reeds, Kitty Frey looked wilder than a lady. Arya liked that about Kitty Frey. She like her loud laugh and the way she braided bird feathers in her hair. She liked how she tied her skirts up showing off her strong calves and thighs to spear fish in the water, or dig oysters up with her toes. The cold water had turned her legs pink with the chill. Arya was wondering how she could stand the cold water. Kitty was teasing some of the younger children to join her. Arya found her eyes lingering on her legs and how long they were. 

 

Alone in their room, later that night, Arya watched her bind string around the three purple black river pearls, she found in the oysters. With her long, thin fingers, Kitty’s hands moved deftly over the pearls, like she was weaving nets. Arya smiled with Walder’s face. At first glance, Kitty Frey seemed slow and not bright, but she was quick and light. 

 

“What do you like to do?” Walder’s voice breaks the silence. Arya’s voice sounds strange to her and her hands look like an old man. She feels Walder’s disdain for women’s things and useless feelings, pushing on her own feelings. At least ten times a day, she has had to remind herself that she is not Walder Frey. To wear someone's skin for a fortnight is too long; the personality changes in another's skin. She does not want to be anything like this foul old man. But she feels his joy over the discord in his family, as well as her own. Arya is intermingling with Walder Frey and it is unsettling. She wants these Freys to tear each other apart and she wants her revenge. But when she looks at all the sisters, aunts, daughters, granddaughters, she wonders what will happen to them all.

 

“Tell me what your life was like before the Twins?” Walder asked her, nursing a cup of ale.

“Before I was your wife, I lived in my father’s timber keep on the edge of the Neck. It was small and neat, not grand like this great keep. I mostly sewed, my Lord.”

“It sounds boring. There are some of my sons who say you are a crannogman. That your mother was one.” 

Kitty continued looking at him once, before resuming her work, “ I am not. But living on the edge of the Neck, many of our household staff was. There as a serving girl, Lizzie, who was a crannogman. She was small and quick and pretty as if she was a Child of the Forest. "We worshipped the Old Gods, as well as the Seven. Every Feast of the Father, my father, and his men would cut a tree down so we could decorate it in the Keep.” 

Arya hears her voice Walder’s,”You are a crannogman.” 

 

“My grandfather was tolerant of the Neck. He married my father to a lady who was half crannogman, but I am not.” 

Arya could see the anger in Kitty Frey’s face and the shame over denying her heritage. Considering what the girl said, Arya thought she is small and strong because she is more a Northerner. She is not a lady of Southron sensibility, but a worshipper of the Old Gods. Laughing a bitter laugh, Walder went to his bed. When Kitty came to bed, she asked him if he would like to take his rights. 

“Not tonight, girl. I am tired.” 

 

The next day, Walder Frey went to inspect the gardens and the godswood. The gardens were a shabby affair and the godswood small and unkept. Even though the day before had been unseasonably warm, today the air was a thick, cold, grey mist and it felt like winter. He sent a few of his grandsons and some men to cut a tree.The Father’s festival would be coming soon.

When his grandsons went to put it in the Great Hall for the upcoming feast, Old Walder yelled, “Not here, you idiots. We don’t want my bannermen to think Old Walder is made of money. Hang it in the Ladies’ parlor.”

All day, Walder Frey sat in the Ladies’ parlor, watching the women and children decorate the tree. The women made garlands of seeds and berries on string, oranges and lemons with cloves, snow fairies made of white wool, and golden paper seven-pointed stars to hang on the tree. The children hung them, one by one in a rush to see the final creation. Laughing and singing, the Frey brood seemed happy, if slightly uncomfortable with Old Walder Frey’s presence.

Walder Frey sat in the solar until the night grew dark, “Wife I must to bed. I am old and tired. Stay and enjoy, but I must to bed.”

“My lord husband, I will go with you to bed.”

A few of the woman giggled. Walder wished she would stay. Arya was tired and weary of wearing this skin, this face. But he took the girl by the arm and shuffled to their bedchambers.

“My lord, tonight?”

“No, I am tired tonight, Kitty. I need to sleep.” 

 

Kitty spoke in the darkness, as she undressed. “My lord husband, Sherei is scared because of her birth time comes. I know you say it is the foolishness of women to trouble you with ghost tales, but the last six of the seven women who have gone to the birthing bed has died. The women talk that it is the ghost of Lady Stark come to get her revenge on the mother and children of House Frey.”

“Bah... foolishness! Who was the girl that lived?”

“Roslin and now she is at Riverrun.”

“Roslin? The one we married to Tully?”

“Remember my lord, how she hung a banner of the fish of Tully over her bed and wrapped the baby in a red and blue blanket, as soon as her daughter was born.”

“Women are meant to die in birth It is your lot in life, for your wickedness, your lust, your treachery. It is the way of things. Do not bother me with superstitions.“

“I know, my lord husband, but Sherei is young, only twelve and afraid.”

“Bah... don’t bother me with women’s gossip and chatter. It is idle foolishness and I am old and too busy.”

Kitty Frey stopped speaking and climbed into bed. Arya thought about the spirit that resembled a red storm that she saw, a bloody tempest, and wondered if it was what remained of her mother’s spirit. Was her mother committing her own revenge on House Frey for their treachery?

Before Walder Frey climbed into bed, he took the strap off the post. In that instant, Walder Frey's wife turned fearful. Kitty scurried up to get to the edge of the bed, in the position that she must be for her punishment. In her face, Walder Frey’s eyes saw fear, doubt, and defiance. Kitty seemed resigned to it. After all, she had spoken about Sherei.

Arya touched the belt, remembering in her Walder’s thoughts, how it felt to stand over his wife and listen to the belt crack against her skin. Watching the flesh redden and feeling himself grow hard, listening to the small soft cries, she made against the pillows. It was heady stuff, memories of desire and power.

Walder threw the belt in the fire and gathered Kitty in his old arms. All night, he held her.


	4. Chapter 4

The days wearing Walder Frey's skin have grown long for her. Arya is tired of trying to negotiate between an old man’s bitterness and her own deep desire for revenge and blood. She will have to kill another Frey soon. Blood must be spilled for blood magic to work, for her image to appear seamless. The magic is growing thin and she can sense it. She is growing thin. Arya has become snappish, tired, hungry. She aches like an old man and feels his ugly spirit. 

Waking in the night, she cannot take it any longer. Against her better judgment, Arya removes Walder’s face and feels the cool wind from the window. It is raining softly and she feels the cool drops of water on her lips and eyelashes. She hears Kitty make a soft murmur from the bed. Exhausted, she lays down, next to the girl and takes a deep breath. She will wake before her wife. She always does. She cannot sleep in the Twins. For just an hour, she does not want to dream Walder Frey's dreams.

Over the last week, the girl has been moving closer to her in the night. Now, Kitty is pushed up against her. Sometimes, it keeps Arya up at night, feeling her legs brush against her. Arya wakes from a dream. She was dreaming of Gendry. Sometimes, she had these dreams where he took her in his arms and kissed her by the river, bare-chested in the autumn sun. Slowly in her dream, he turned into Lady Crane, the actress in Braavos, long-armed, beautiful, soft. Her breasts pressed against her as the kiss deepened. Her curls brushing against her face. 

The familiar ache between her legs, as well as the press of her mouth, woke her. Kitty was half dreaming in the darkness. She had her arms around her, kissing her, whispering, “Lizzie..” 

Arya felt a heat stir for the girl. She was rubbing herself against her in the most delicious way, making her almost feel drunk. Arya had never kissed another person or touched them. There had been no time in the House of Black and White. Perhaps, if she had stayed in Winterfell or if she had kept with the Brotherhood Without Banners, she might have had a boy kiss her but she had not stayed at either place. 

Kitty’s nightdress was pushed up to her thighs. Arya knew magic was weak and waning and that the girl saw her. What if Kitty said something about Walder Frey? Who would believe the silly young wife of Walder Frey, voiceless, powerless, meaningless? No one.

Arya touched the girl's thighs as she kissed her. She had thought kissing would be more awkward and less delightful. Arya found herself enjoying this girl’s mouth and the way her tongue would move against hers. Pushing gently with her fingers, Kitty opened her legs wider and she slipped between them. Arya felt her breath catch. She wondered if she kissed the soft flesh of Kitty’s thighs, or even what lay between them, would Kitty make more noises.

Arya had seen two women before in the brothel in Braavos. Sometimes, she would have dreams of Lady Crane, touching her and kissing her. Perhaps, Kitty would like the same things she had dreamed of. Arya kisses her stomach, smooth and untouched. When her mouth touches her sex, Kitty pushes back unsure, but the feeling makes her open them wider. She is unsure, as Arya is unsure. They are both virgins in this.  
Arya licks her softly, at first, but increases the intensity to see the reaction of the girl. When Kitty pushes up from the bed writhing, Arya slips two fingers inside her. Kitty responds with the most wonderful moan. Arya continues.

When she comes, Kitty reaches for her and kisses her. Arya kisses her back. In the night as Kitty Frey falls back to sleep, she mumbles, “You are such a beautiful dream..”

 

Arya cannot believe her stupidity for allowing the girl to live, for taking the face off. Laying next to Walder Frey’s wife, feeling desire and adrenaline coursed through her body, she makes a plan. Arya needs to spill blood this night and she promises herself that no matter how good it felt, it will not happen again.

Silently, Arya gets up from the bed and opens her pack. She wears the girl’s face she took from the House of Black and White, the one she wore when she killed Walder Frey. Still half drunk from the desire of bedding Kitty, she lures a drunk Frey to the wine cellar, who had stumbled from somewhere to piss in the yard. Slicing his throat, she feels the satisfaction of revenge and the blood making the magic strong again. Now, she has plenty of magic to continue the illusion that she is Walder Frey. 

She only has two more nights and she will be on the road headed North to bury her brother. Maybe, she will send the bones North and go to King's Landing and kill Cersei first. She is still undecided.

In the morning, at breakfast, Kitty caters to him. When she meets her eyes, she searches to see her underneath his skin but she can tell by her troubled look, she cannot. Arya had wondered if the blood of the Children of the Forest would be too strong in her and she would be able to see through the magic, but she could not. 

Throughout the morning, Arya catches herself, thinking of the kisses they shared or the way her body ached as Kitty pressed against her. But, Arya pushes it out of her head every time. She cannot risk it. 

Instead, she tries to distract herself by listening. In the Great Hall, there is a collection of her sons and grandsons sitting at a table. They seem to be plotting. She listens with her ears instead of the almost deaf ears of Walder Frey.. 

Arya heard their whispers…

“Finally, it seems Father has grown soft in the head..” 

“He hasn’t made her pregnant. Perhaps, his cock has grown soft.”

“Look at his wife’s face. He has bedded her well, recently. She almost looks like she loves the old man. Perhaps the young cunt is all he needs. He has grown fond of the dirty frog eater..”

“I have heard she has snake teeth and she drips venom in his ear at night.”

“If it makes him so happy, let her work her evil and let it do its work. Maybe she can kill the old fuck. Save us the trouble.”

“She probably does unnatural things with her body, sluttish things, unnatural things..” 

“Perhaps when the old man dies we will all have a taste of her.”

“It's not a taste of her that I want, but a fuck would do..”

“I hear frog girls take it in the ass. She is more animal than a lady.”

“She will take it where I put it!” 

“After father, she probably needs a good hard fuck.” 

 

Arya heard them and all the disgusting things they said about Kitty. For a moment, she thought of the ugly things that could happen to a young girl with no protection. What might happen to the girl, if even one Frey remained? Did it matter?

Kitty came to him, light in her step, looking him in the face. She had gotten familiar with him. She was no longer as afraid. 

“Husband,” she said smiling and she kissed his old cheek. “Thank you for the dress, and the tree, and the night.” 

Walder slapped her across the face, as hard as he could. He pushed her hard to the floor in the Great Hall so all could see. “Do not touch me, girl. I am not a green boy that wants your teasing.” 

Arya did not look up to see the Frey’s and their reaction. She knew enough to know that it worked. Let Walder Frey’s sons see that. See how soft Walder Frey was. Walder Frey was as hard as the stone bridge the Twins were built on and they should leave Kitty alone. Soon, they would all be dead and she would be heading away from here. Soon, winter would come 

That night, Kitty sleeps as far away as possible from her husband. Though it makes her a little sad, Arya knows it is better for both of them this way.


	5. Chapter 5

Kitty sits beside her husband during the second feast in less than a moon at the Twins. She had started feeling like she was going crazy It was either that or she was going mad. Perhaps, her father's wrath was finally taking its toll. Sometimes, when she looked at Walder, she saw someone underneath his skin, a girl about her age with long dark hair and big grey eyes. 

 

It was her husband's fault that she had begun to wonder such crazy thoughts. He had not beaten her or hurt her. It was unsettling. He had been too gentle and she had begun to grow soft with carelessness. She had begun to dream of a different woman dark hair and grey eyes a long face. Her dreams at night are full of this girl and her delicious mouth doing delightful things to her body. The girls hands are covered with the blood and Kitty knows that she is dangerous but she cannot resist her. 

There had been that night she was certain that she was going mad, or maybe it was a dream. But it had felt so real. She had dreamed of Lizzie before but there were different dreams of a new girl. One night, Kitty saw her, felt her girl’s body next to her. She could feel her legs, the cool skin. Since that night, she sometimes would look at Walder and see someone underneath his skin. The Septa had told her she would go crazy if she allowed her body to revel in wickedness. 

Kitty wakes in the morning, unrested and resentful of the old man snoring beside her. She wishes she would get pregnant. She would have something to do, something to look forward to. Even if she died in childbirth, she was not afraid of dying, but going mad with boredom, she couldn't stand.

 

As they sit in the Great Hall of the Twins, she watches her old husband lift his old body off his seat to make a toast to House Frey She disappears in her thoughts of that lovely dark-haired girl coming to her and asking her to run away. She thinks about slipping out after the toast and going to Shirei. Shirei has been in labor since the afternoon. The midwife does not know why a healthy girl cannot give birth at the Twins. She believes the Twins are cursed. 

She stands to give a toast with her husband, reaching for a cup. Walder turns and spits hateful words at her, ”Not you girl. I'm not going to waste wine on a woman. ”

Kitty looks at her husband and his beetle eyes. She thinks to herself that she is so much better than this man and this place. She does not raise her glass. She thinks about Lizzie and her family on the edge of the Neck. He might think she is less, but her great great great grandmother was once a lady of a Great House and her great grandfather a great warrior that died on the StepStones. She deserves better than this small and mean spirited place and this dark hearted man. 

She listens to his words and wonders if Walder has gone mad. He says he is speaking praise to them but it sounds like he is cursing them. When the Frey men start coughing, collapsing on the tables and floors, she looks at Walder waiting for his response, certain that Walder would fall as well. He does not. When she saw the girl she had been dreaming about take Walder’s face off, she realized that some dark magic was at work. 

 

The girl looks unmoved, at all the dead men in the Great Hall, “Tell them that the North remembers. Winter came for House Frey.”

The girl leaves. For a moment, Kitty looks at the dead bodies of the Freys before her. She sits. 

Less than an hour has passed when Kitty finds the girl, Arya Stark in the yard. Regardless of what her husband thought of her, she was smart. She might have been willful and disobedient but she knew the houses in the North and the Riverlands. She knew that it was Arya Stark because her sister, Sansa, was in the North and had just won Winterfell. Arya Stark was said to be small and dark, grey eyed like a Stark.

Also, word had travelled quickly through the castle. The first thing Lady Arya had done was free her Uncle Edmure. Arya had given him command of the Twins; she had other things to attend to. Now, she was collecting her brother’s bones. Arya Stark has cut the crows cage down. She had carefully taken the bones of her brother and wrapped them in a fine red cloth.

Kitty approaches with a large plain bag, as Arya takes the skull of the wolf wraps it in another cloth and places it in the saddlebags of a horse. It looks like she is readying to leave the Twins. “My Lady,” she hands her the bag. “Roslin and some of the servants hid your brother’s skull, in order to return it to the North for proper burial. Not all of us were willing to betray House Stark.”

Arya gives her a strange look but takes the bag and places it in the saddle bags. 

Kitty continues, “I do not know what magic you know. I know you must hate me since I am a Frey. However, we kept your brother’s skull at great risk for his honor. I know you have no reason to help me. But you must know great magic to have done what you did this night. Please help me. Please help us, little Shirei is in labor and I am afraid for her. The midwife says she should not have any trouble. It is the curse. Your mother haunts this place. Perhaps, you could speak with her. Please, Lady Arya.”

Kitty kneeled in the dirty frozen yard, taking her hand. She looked at Arya. Lady Arya looked at her like she was small, insignificant, like she was a bug.  
Arya spoke, “It is a difficult thing to be a woman, isn’t it? We are sold and bedded, wedded with no choice, exchanged for soldiers, titles, gold. We face death every time we give birth. Yet, we have no voice, no will, no steel. For you, I will try. Plus, I think it might benefit me as well, if I can lay my mother to rest.”

Lady Arya had said she must collect the bones and speak to the dead to see if she would rest. The women had spoke of how Lady Catelyn’s body had been thrown in the river. So, Kitty Frey and Arya Stark took a small path along the river on the dark winter night. Wrapped in worn woolen cloak, Kitty tried to be brave, to not flinch or seem afraid. She rode beside her and did not complain about the black night or the icy rain.

When they came to the spot on the path where they could go no further due to the snow, Arya and Kitty dismounted and walked to the edge of the path. Arya climbed over the snow drift and stood on the snow. Determined, Kitty lifted her skirts. She had dressed warm and had pants and boots underneath.

Kitty tries to walk in the snow with her skirts. It will be slow going with her in skirts. Arya gave her her arm, so she could climb in the drift. Kitty struggles to step over the drifts in her skirts.

“Stop.” Arya spoke. 

Arya jumped back in the path. Arya extended her arm to the girl. When Kitty struggled back into the path over the drift, Arya looked at Kitty, smiled and grabbed her skirt. Standing there in the snow with a torch sputtering, Arya took the edge of her skirt in both hands

“May I?” she asked.

Kitty nodded unsure what might happen, but she did not want this remarkable person to leave and she did not want to refuse her anything. Kitty thought to herself that she was so close that she could kiss her. With a quick movement and the tear of cloth, Arya cut the cloth with her knife and let the remains of Kitty’s skirt fall in the snow. Arya smiled, “It is easier to walk in the snow with pants, isnt it?”

Kitty’s throat was dry. She did not think she could speak her throat was so dry. Instead, she nodded like she was an idiot. Realizing slowly, she would follow this strange girl into the Seven Hells if she asked her to . Right now, she was going to some haunted place to quell some bloody demon ghost hell-bent on killing all Frey women and all she could think of was how it would be to kiss her in the icy rain. 

Arya seemed to have a inner compass to find the bones of her mother. As they waded through the snow, she seemed to know which direction they needed to go. They were headed toward the river. There was a huge tree and its roots were thick and had raised up from the ground. tAs they got closer, she could see something beneath the roots.Though the snow was almost a foot deep, it seemed no snow would land or stick. The ground was covered with dried dead grass and brush. Kitty could see the bones, some red strands of hair on her scalp, and a green, rotted and ruined velvet dress. Some animal must have pulled her from the water and lay her to rest under this tree. 

 

In the brush, the tree roots looked like a bower. If they were not bones, the remains almost seemed peaceful in the snow- covered roots like a princess or a maiden captured under the spell of the Children of the Forest. HOwever, they were bones, bones of a woman murdered at a wedding feast. 

Kitty watched as Lady Arya, with no emotion, began collecting the bones and placing them in a bag. It was then the spirit of Lady Catelyn Stark rose. It grew, swirls of dark specks turned into a twist of black threads and blood spray. Her eyes were of fire and her claws were of blood.   
Like a swarm of flies, it spread from the direction of the Twins, seeking them out like a storm, a tempest of blood seeking revenge for her child who was killed, her grandchild who would never be born, her daughter in law, herself.

“Mother,” Arya spoke to the spirit. “Mother, we must go now. Go back to Winterfell. There is word that the Starks are fighting to win the North back.” 

Her brother’s ghost and the ghost of his huge direwolf had joined Arya, standing beside her as images of who they once were. Robb Stark, the King in the North, spoke handsome and regal, reaching for his mother in a plaintive way, “Mother, we need to go to Winterfell to sleep.”

Lady Catelyn’s spirit did not seem to care. Arya spoke again, “Mother, I have wreaked all our vengeance. All of them that hurt you are dead. Leave the women to their grief. They have no words, no power. They did not do anything except have the misfortune to be born or married to a Frey. It is not with them you are angry. Mother, come. Let us go home.” 

In a rage, the spirit screamed, a haunting hateful sound that made KItty’s teeth shake. She closed her eyes to await a painful death. When death did not come, Kitty opened her eyes and saw the spirit had changed from a bloody rain, swirling with darkness and pain, to a pretty woman, older and tired, with a brutal cut to her throat and her eyes bloody with self inflicted wounds. Arya hugged the ghost woman and led her to the horse with Robb taking her by the other hand. When she put the bones in another saddle bag, the ghosts of Robb, the wolf, and Lady Catelyn all disappeared. 

 

Arya helped Kitty on her horse, speaking, “You will not be bothered by her any longer. She will come home with me to be laid to rest with my father and brother. I must go but I will ride with you some of the way for your safety.” 

Kitty rode, quietly listening to the breathing of the horses and the steps of their hooves crush the small snow that had fallen. She had much to say. She had wanted to tell her all the things in her heart, but she was afraid to sound foolish, so she did not speak at all. As the Twins could be seen clearly, Arya stopped, “I think you will be safe to get to the gates on your own.” 

Finally, Kitty found her voice and spoke “I dreamed off you one night.” 

Arya spoke, her words cold puffs of smoke in the darkness, “It was not a dream.” 

“I could go with you.. “

“It will not be safe for you to go where I go.”

Kitty reached in her pocket and handed Arya a hankerchief. She smiled, “Thank you.” 

There was embroidered sigil of the Twins and a blooming tree as well as the initials CBF. Arya looked at the girl, running her gloved fingers over the stiches. “The letters... What do the letters mean?”

“They are my initials, Catelyn Bowlan Frey.” 

“Your name is Catelyn?”

“Yes, I was named after your mother, a sign of respect, as she was Lord Tully’s daughter and Lord Stark’s wife. We only have a small bit of land on the border but we were loyal to old Lord Hoster. My mother thought it would be best for me when she sent me to the Twins to be wed to go by my pet name, Kitty.”

Arya smiled. “Catelyn suits you more.” 

 

She took the handkerchief and tucked it in her pocket. 

“Goodbye, Catelyn Frey.” 

“Goodbye, Arya Stark.” 

As the sun rose over the Twins, Kitty held Shirei’s baby, Hope. The baby was small but healthy and the mother seemed to be fine. All she needed was rest. Lord Tully had sent a call out to any loyal men, but would be leaving for Riverrun this day. Perhaps, he would find Olyvar at Riverrun with Roslin but she didn't know. She did not know if she should go with him like some of the women had decided. She might or maybe she would ride North and go to Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So- obviously this is a canon divergence. I think that I find it interesting that Arya lived among the Freys for a fortnight, wearing Walder's face. I wonder what that meant or how it was. While writing this, I learned all kinds of things about skin-changing and the Faceless men and how you might change appearances with magic in Westeros, but I still had lots of questions. 
> 
> I think that Arya would care about Robb's bones. Everyone is so worried about Ned's bones in the books but we never hear about Robb or his burial.
> 
> I know in the show she is headed to King's Landing and her plans change when she meets Hotpie but this is a mix. 
> 
> Also, when I found out that Kitty was Walder Frey's newest wife's name, I couldn't resist making Kitty short for Catelyn.

**Author's Note:**

> So- I missed last night's story (I will do two today- promise).. I started writing this story and I really like it. It will have multiple chapters, but not too many, and hopefully we can make something good.
> 
> I have always liked the idea of the angry unrestful ghost..
> 
> Also, I wanted to write something where Arya lives as Walder ... 
> 
> Who knew that Walder Frey's ninth wife was named Kitty?  
> Lastly, this is all showverse..... happy reading!


End file.
